With Sebastian tied to his chair, Braya had him voice call Janelle. “How about you give us some time?” Sebastian said, his sly voice dripping with honey, and Janelle said the pair should enjoy themselves. It made Braya’s skin crawl. She didn’t like spending one second longer with Sebastian than she had to, but at least she was getting the interrogation she wanted.
Braya pulled up a chair and held a casual knife to his throat. He looked uncomfortable in his bonds. She knew her knots would hold, but she had Sebastian in his home territory, and who knew what slippery tricks he had up his tailored sleeves. “Look champ,” Braya said with the iciness of a snow queen, “You and I both know you’re a coward. You answer my questions, and then I’ll answer yours. What does Triumphia want with you?”
“My brain, obviously,” Sebastian drawled. “You ransacked my quarters. Did you find anything incriminating?”
Ransacked was a strong word. Braya didn’t want to play all of her cards, but she needed to know what the diagrams meant. What if they had something to do with Triumphia? She had her suspicions that Triumphia never cared about her, that she was just a cog in the machine… but she needed to UNDERSTAND that machine.
Braya replied, “You’re trying to erase people’s identities.”
Sebastian sucked the air through his teeth, a gesture that was part laugh and part grimace. “Is your identity defined by your memories? I don’t like what you’re implying. My Memory Eraser is no different than my Maker. Both lead to an improved quality of life, and I frequently calibrate them to ensure nobody is hurt. Erasing memories is no easy business, but it’s a business with a market.”
Braya was stunned. Who in their right mind would want to erase their own memories? She’d been through hell and back in the Citadel. But her intense training schedule and those long sleepless nights had shaped her into the strong, commanding woman she was today. “You have a market?” she said.
“The recreational drug market is one and the same,” Sebastian replied. “Some people have irreversible trauma they want to forget.”
“Then how do you do it? What is the cyclist adenosine mono-whatever protein?”
“I HATE explaining science to soldiers,” the CEO pouted. “If you must know, the cyclic adenosine monophosphate response element-binding protein is a DNA transcriptor. It binds to our genes, and increases neural plasticity and long term memory. It’s been used to treat patients with Alzheimer’s and dementia for some time. My Memory MAKER increases protein activity in the brain, making long-term memory easier Then, I introduce my neurons into the mix. I can create memories and neural links. It’s a complicated technology I took from Triumphia, and now they want it back or whatever.”
He was on a roll now. Braya knew if you get an egomaniac talking about his evil plans, he would let slip more than he planned. “You STOLE it?” she asked.
“Why do you think Triumphia’s executive council walk around like they have only one brain? The ruler has control over the whole city. It’s a problem,” said Sebastian. “So once I figured out how to–”
“Hold on.” Braya couldn’t believe it. “This Memory Maker lets you CONTROL the people you hook up to it?”
“Why would I waste my life on a device that helps you remember skydiving? There’s no fun in that.”
“You’re a psychopath.”
“Do not interrupt me again,” Sebastian shot back. “Anyway, the process for creating memories and connecting minds is straightforward. Destroying memories is just as easy. It’s a simple matter of eliminating the overexpressed proteins. But when Triumphia tried it on their test soldiers, all their soldiers forgot how to speak. ALL of their memories were destroyed. I know how to selectively destruct memories, and I hold the secret key. Happy?”
“No, I’m not happy,” said Braya. If Triumphia controlled people, what if they were controlling her and she had no idea? It was a scary thought. “I was told by my superiors to capture you because you have too much power. How are you any better than my home? How do I know you’re on my side?”
“My dear agent, there are no SIDES.” Sebastian would have waved his hand flippantly if not for the rope around his wrist. “My plan is simple. First, I become all-powerful. Second, I destroy Triumphia’s ruler. Third, your people and my people will live separately in peace. The End.”
Braya’s grip loosened on the knife. When he put it like that, she almost understood where he was coming from. Almost. Sebastian was a privileged, imprudent peacock with no friends, living at the top of the world. She and Sebastian were different in as many ways as there were birds in the sky. But looking at his fierce expression, and remembering how alone she felt within the walls of the Citadel, she almost understood him.
“It sounds like a fairytale fantasy,” Sebastian said. “You, me, my penthouse, and the ruins of a regime. Maybe you could be my distressed princess.”
Just like that, Braya’s empathy meter hit zero. She recoiled. Was he asking her out? Sebastian’s power, and the way he wielded it, made her uncomfortable. He was a slimy and despicable worm, and she thought briefly about crushing him under her foot. But something stopped her: the thought of returning to Triumphia and knowing each citizen was a worker bee, working for an evil hive.
Braya tucked her knife back into one of its hiding spaces. “We’re done here,” she said.
“You haven’t answered my question,” Sebastian whined.
“Shoot.”
“How did you get access to my jet?”
“I contacted my superior,” she said. “Your security measures are a sham.”
Braya left, walking past Janelle, who had her feet on the desk. “Go untie him,” Braya instructed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Janelle was unsurprised.